


Chosen

by dudesorriso



Category: American Horror Story, Constantine (2005), Constantine (TV)
Genre: Blood, Crossover, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Nephilim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-16 16:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16498814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dudesorriso/pseuds/dudesorriso
Summary: Based on a Tumblr ask, one of my own. Thought i'd give writing it a try.The thought running through my head features a still semi innocent Michael. Readers little girl running up and just, "Youre my Daddy!"(like kids) And Michael taking it so literal in his broken hearted self that he saves both of them and when he arrives in Outpost 3 readers daughter runs to him screaming, "Daddy!" He only smirks at the reader, and everyone else, as he scoops her up and motions to Mommy, "Coming wife?" Because shes so pure and she chose *him*, so he chooses *them*.





	1. Little View

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of three. Constructive criticism welcome. Please don't be afraid.

‘He looked like an Angel.’

That’s what Mommy said. What did an Angel look like though? She honestly wasn’t sure and asking the adults her Mother usually put in charge of her yielded no answers. Nor did her wobbly lip and giant eyes. (Though it was known that flashing those beauties at the un-proclaimed Leader of Neutrality, Papa Midnite, one might find herself with more sweets before dinner.) Pert little nose twitching, the young girl scratches with gritty nails as twinkling blue eyes dance across the stoop. LA smelled funny. With festering heat, cold people, sewage and the all-around darkness that hung in its underbelly. She could feel the grasps all around her, like a black fog they hung on the outside of her vision. Waiting to plunge their gloom into some unsuspecting person. Tapping her sneakers against the cracked cement below her, careful little fingers worry at the edges of pavement next to her. A sprout of flowers beginning to grow, weak little things they were and in her Uncle Chaz’s opinion; weeds. Their golden color brought her joy though, especially when the sun hit them just right. That glow that bounced off was what she believed her father’s hair looked like. Angels had gold hair, right?

Fingers grazed across the edges, the dandelions petals flourishing just the tiniest bit under her gentle hands. Mommy said she had his eyes. Blue, the color of the sky on a clear warm day. Uncle John didn’t like her Daddy too much she could tell. Anytime she’d brought him up around the older man had his fists tightening, mouth twisting like he’d eaten a sour candy and his eyes… Uncle John’s eyes turned dark with rage. Like one of those inky mists had grabbed hold of him for just a second till he shrugged his shoulders, kissed her head and walked off. Sometimes she’d hear Papa Midnite and Uncle Chaz whispering about it till the former sensed her. Something about lost and fallen. Was her father lost? Did he fall off something and never come back? She knew some of the children at her school said that their parents 'fell off the wagon’, did her father fall off one? Puffing a sigh, she rises from the steps to skip in front of the apartment building. While normally being in Chaz’s care was fun; filled with movie binges, greasy food, candy and video games she found a want to be outside. Something inside told her she needed to be there and even with her Uncle’s confused, “Have fun?” She remained resolute, waving with a smile every time the older man peeked out from his second-floor curtains.

~*~

Her feeling hasn’t gone away. Three hours have passed since she over took her mission and even as she grows bored, she keeps going. Skipping, hopping, cartwheeling back in forth and stopping occasionally to touch that little weed… It was important. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but it was.

Shadows grew, lights flicked on with a distant hum. The cicadas of the city, it brought some comfort to her. She could almost pretend she was home with her Momma in their small house with fields of green in every direction. Almost. The sound of a window plus her Uncle’s voice calling down to her has her turning on her heel at the end of the street. Ten minutes she begs, but really, she doesn’t know why she waits anymore. Slow foot falls, shoulders in a slump as she twists her braids, she makes her way back. That feeling in her chest still present, growing ever more as the hours waned on. Sighing dejectedly, even a bit sadly though unknown to even herself she starts up the stairs to head inside– pop. Dust from the asphalt beneath her feet fluffs up the air, and she’s staring. Staring into the darkness, hands gripping the cement arms of her stoop as she leans over to peer.

It’s like he’s surrounded by light and dark at the same time. His hair a curly messed mop upon his head, golden in its glow of the street lamps. The haze of its light makes her eyes twinkle in awe. Eyes so like her own stare down the road past her, not even noticing the young child that stares so resolutely in his direction. Their color she can make out, blue like a summer sky, but right now they seem so dark. Cloudy and it makes her sad for a moment. Why was her father sad? He’d come home, almost, he had found her. Maybe it’s because Mommy wasn’t here? Her father probably didn’t even know she existed, Mommy had said he was gone before she even knew about her. All she knew was that his face was meant to smile. A look so sad and empty didn’t belong on his visage, she was sure her Mother fell for her Daddy’s smile. She barely noticed his clothes, still too young to properly understand the dark congealed wetness that clung to his untucked shirt. His entirely unkempt appearance, so lost was she in this beautiful stranger that she saw her lost father. Nothing else mattered. The flower. Her hand grasped its stem, breaking it at the ground and then she’s off. In front of her beautiful father, a bashful smile on her face. She knows she filthy, hands covered in dirt, grime under her nails, her clothes sweaty from heat and playing on the ground. She’s always dreamed of meeting her father, but never like this. She feels so small and inconsequential next to him.

 

At first, he wanders right past her, unseeing oceans glazed over in pain. Flower in hand, head tilted the slightest bit she rushes after him, his almost silent elegant footfalls and her quick rushed one’s echo on the street. It’s like he doesn’t even know she’s there and honestly her heart wrenches in her chest, her eyes gathering tears.

“P… pa…” if only she could get it out. Her throat feels like its closing though, her eyes running with fresh fallen tears all that can escape are choked whispers. She needs to be strong, just like her Mommy.

“D-d–daddy!” It rings in the silence of the street, one word that brings everything to a standstill. Finally, finally the man is straightening up; his movements more refined like a well-oiled machine. She watches as his shoulders lift; his neck goes straight and that almost wobbly gait change. And then he’s facing her, and she’s lost in the eyes that look so much like hers, not even noticing the confused lilt that gathers above his brows.

His mouth is open no doubt to voice a question, but it closes as he processes her word. The one that entered his darkness and disoriented mood, it knocked him back to this hellhole, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel angry at the small child before him. Not as she looked at him with eyes glittering like pools of a midwinter sky. Even full of tears they looked upon him as if he hung the stars and brought about the sun. She sniffled, drawing even more of his attentiveness and how could she not? When it was as if he was looking into a portrait. It was only a few steps to her that had him crouched before the small child; she couldn’t have been more than 4 or 5, and as his gaze trailed her face, he hated to say he had to deny her. He’d never so much as touched another human, there was no way the child was his. And yet their similarities were borderline uncanny. His shade of hair twisted into two chest length braids, now a tiny bit ratty most likely due to her activities. Blue jewels that stared at him in awe, hopefulness and… love. Her chin was strong, much like his own with a feminine grace that she would no doubt grow into. But she was not his. It was only after he opened his mouth after the minutes passed of careful scrutiny that she interrupted him with a flower in his face. More though a weed, its yellow gold shining vibrant and… quite healthily in her grasp.

“You’re my Daddy!” She whispers reverently, her eyes glistening more as she offered him the flower. “I’ve been waiting for you forever… Mommy said one day you’d come back.”

Him? A father? He had never even thought much on it, maybe when he was younger and a lot more innocent to this festering cesspool, they called a world but for years it hadn’t crossed his mind. Once upon a time he had dreamed of maybe a wife, someone to share his life and love with. To bring home to Ms. Mead and proudly call his own. But no more than that had ever crossed his mind… Oh Ms. Mead, what would she have done in this situation? Long fingers took the flower offered to him, digits spinning it this way and that to the child’s amusement. He watched as her bangs framed her cheeks and the slightly gapped teeth rewarded him with a smile. It was there he saw it, how could he have missed it, truly he was an idiot. She radiated it so clearly now, the purity roared from her in waves and he had missed it. Its glow shifted from in her chest to her whole being that he could almost see her ghostly wings. Soft feathered and the same shade as he– their hair. And this sparkling, unadulterated being was choosing him.

Briefly a thought entered his mind, Nephilim as they were could be dangerous to a being such as he. And yet he could sense no trickery or deceit from her. No half-truths when he glimpsed her mind and as all doors once opened, they could be entered from both sides. She did not shy away, nor did terror grow once she had touched the darkest part of his mind.

“I did,” he said simply. She chose him. He would not disappoint her. Not when his reward for such a simple sentence was her arms about his shoulders and that purity and warmth pressed into his side. All too soon she was pulled away by a voice above, her excited smile stretching from ear to ear. He hated to but, one finger on her mouth and she closed it, confusion swimming in her eyes.

“They can’t know yet. Our little secret, yes?” He almost missed the childlike joy and blind trust of his younger days. It had her nodding rapidly so much her braids flapped and brought a tired half smile to his face. And then she was frowning, and he ached to bring back that smile. “But… you just got here. Why do you have to go again Daddy?” Her tiny voice filled with so much sadness had his brows turned down.

“I have some things to do,” he decided for honesty. Or as close as he could get, “Things that you and…” 

“Mommy?”

“Mommy,” he tested it out, finding some small thrill run through him. Eyes darkened mischievously, she had been claimed and didn’t even know it yet. It was exhilarating for the most part, a game of cat and mouse was beginning, and she had no idea. “You and Mommy can’t be around for them. It’s too dangerous.” 'And lonely,’ he added in his head before looking at his daughter, 'Though not anymore.’ His free hand tucked between her cheek and bangs, thumb brushing across her feature’s gently. “Understand?” Blue depths took in his face, before one small hand touched his own cheek in mimicry. A sweet moment he would remember forever and be sure to replicate every chance he saw her. “I understand.”

“Good, now go inside.”

She was gone, turning at the door with a wave, that had him answering in kind, and bright smile before she disappeared within its depths and at once he was alone again. His hand dropped to the side, while the other twirled the flower once more before he tucked it in his pocket. Days came and went as he went on his way that not even the thought of his child could keep his previous sadness quelled. In a haze of some kind he found his way to a door, “You lost?”

Weren’t we all?


	2. Her View

**One month later…**

  
To be fair I wasn't too upset with Chaz, I mean the man had kept up with Elaina. She was safe, breathing and joy practically radiated from her daughter's very being that it made her bones ache the slightest bit. She'd have to train her to control that, it wouldn't do to have the wrong kind of people sniffing around. And for the sake of principals, letting Elaina play outside all hours of the day for the weekend in this neighborhood wasn't exactly the worst crime. While not safe in the terms of human violence and being situated in a bad part of town it wasn't the most dangerous.

  
You didn't cause trouble on Papa Midnite's turf without his fury reigning down on you. Going against one of the most powerful of the Vodun Shaman who also had the ear of Papa Legba wasn't exactly smart. And boy did many try before his empire was built, his hands in jars all over the world. Extortion, weapons, slavery, black magic, prostitution etc. If it was crime, the man had his fingers in deep but as of late in the last two centuries or so he had mellowed out. He was by no means a great man, but he had clearly chosen side when Hell decided it wanted to rise up. His Oath of Neutrality made many Angel's, Demon's and Devil's weep with joy and anger. He kept the peace and balance on Earth between those who would tip the scales. What was Good without Evil and Evil without Good? You needed the balance or Darkness would fall.

  
So yes, it wasn't the worst thing that Chaz let the little girl play on the stoop in front of his apartment. She was in the safest place she could possibly be having Midnite wrapped around her pinky finger. It was a Nephilim thing, I knew it, he knew it, everyone knew it. Children of Angels often inspired protectiveness and a deep want to bask in their warmth. Knowing and dealing with it was a different matter. The worst thing Chaz did though..

  
“I said no.”

  
“But Moooo-mmmmy--,”

  
“You are not eating two candy bars before dinner.” He had bought her a box of candy; a box two feet in length, a foot high and neatly stacked with Hershey's Chocolate with Almond boxes. Seven stack and each box containing 36, THIRTY SIX, bars of milk chocolate. The man…

  
“What about one?”

  
“No.” Had a death wish.

  
~*~

  
With Elaina at school, I could finally begin cleaning. The shelves needed dusting, a weekend away seemed to accumulate bunnies all over the place. And somehow, someway dirty clothes lay about even though I was positive I had washed them all before going with John for the weekend. Sighing and tossing them into the almost full laundry basket I grabbed the pods and softener on the way out. The metal slam of the fire exit in the stairwell echoed about as I made my way down to the basement. Why the landlord couldn't put the laundry machines on the first floor, id never have an answer to.  
Lights hummed to life with a flick of a switch, darkness chased away into nooks and crannies. The ever looming chill of the room caused goose flesh to rise as I worked. It had been getting worse, the chill of the air. The building we lived in now, decrepit it may be wasn’t a site to any grisly murders or built upon a graveyard. Really, it was one of the first things I checked and yet still their presence grew. Whether it was the girl in the hallway, the woman with the funny wrists or the man in the elevator with his loud shade.

  
The girl played with Elaina gently, lulled her to sleep most nights with protective eyes. The funny wristed lady let her tanner about anything and everything under the sun, never told her to stop or asked for peace, only listened with unwavering attention. But the man with the loud presence made her uncomfortable, on bad days he'd stand in the shaft screaming in their faces with no sound as they traveled up or down. On good days though he would stand in his corner, smiling to them both with sad eyes. Elaina's innocence probably never noticed the subtle bruising around the girls neck, nor the blood on the woman’s wrist. And she knew her daughter definitely did not see the mans caved in chest, too young was she to notice the not quite right details.

  
Spirits would always be attracted to the bright creatures of wing and light. And your darling daughter being half would draw even the darkest of beings. Not having to move in two years had been a saving grace, Papa Midnites power resting upon this building kept the most vile out. Kept those dark beings away by 60 miles, our whole lives resided in this parameter though.. And a child’s curiosity and attention span was otherworldly.

  
Heaving a sigh, you check each pocket before throwing them in the wash, going through the motions of every day life had you going on muscle memory. Elaina had a habit of leaving candy, crayons and food in her little pockets. The chipmunk was a greedy little thing at times. It wasn't until you hit something cool and metal that you stilled.

  
Brow raised, fingers shifted until the small smooth object fell into the palm of your hand. A ring.

  
_Exquisite._

  
_Beautiful._

_Shiny._

  
_And silver._

  
Definitely above your paygrade, where the hell had she gotten it? Furrowing your brow with a lip held between your teeth in question, you shifted it onto your ring finger mindlessly. It fit perfectly. In fact it was quite becoming with its sleek silver design, detailed leaves curling around its bar to circle around the cut diamonds and single black jewel. You'd never seen a black diamond before, not in person and holding it up to the light so its cut filtered into rainbows; definitely above your paygrade, you could detect a hint of red.

  
Wherever she picked it up from it was probably very much missed and worth a fortune. You could turn it into the police department tomorrow, after asking your little cherub where the heck she had pocketed from. Throwing the rest of the clothes in the wash you made your way upstairs, twirling the ring around your finger subconsciously. A figure in glossy black staring at your back as you moved about, whispering its reports to its master. Both would stay there another month before you realized a dark intensity would send a niggling in your head that kept you from removing the ring.

  
~*~

  
For everything you did notice, you failed when it came to the gigantic smile your cherub wore when she noticed the ring on your finger that evening. The happiness in her eyes, the light that subtly glowed from within it was a nice change but you didn't quite realize why she smiled so toothily. Maybe if you had questioned it things maybe have turned out a little differently. Perhaps happiness could have been enjoyed more thoroughly.

  
That night as you both cleaned up after dinner and you sent her to bed after dishes and teeth had been done you relaxed. A blanket, book, with a cool glass of Coke as you sat on your bed with pillows fluffed and your fan swinging slowly to abate the soft hear that sometimes grew in your home; you relaxed. Worries flew away as swords clashed, wizards spoke doom and evil failed. Atleast until your ears picked up the most curious one sided conversation.

  
“I know.”

  
“But.. Why can't you stay with us now?” Book aside, you smiled the tiniest bit. Probably talking to the girl again.

  
“I miss you a lot.”

  
“Oh yeah! Mommy loves the ring! She was wearing it today!” Maybe not, worrying the ring around your finger unconsciously you debated on interfering.

  
“But I'm not tired..” of course it was interrupted with a yawn.

  
“Can we talk again tomorrow?” Just her friend you convinced yourself, until a silly soft voice echoed from the wall.

  
“ **Now why would I turn that down Little one? Sweet dreams.** ” Heart thundering in your chest you flew out the door and into Elaina’s, eyes darting back and forth in fear but seeing nothing amiss. In fact, Elaina lay asleep her small hand propped beneath her cheek and her blankets neatly tucked around her shoulders. Stepping up to her bedside, hands smoothed the girls hair behind her ear and with a gently kiss and quick pats you left the room. Missing the darkened figure behind the door whose blue eyes watched you with a calculating gaze. His golden hair splayed elegantly and almost awkwardly at the tops of the shoulders of his richly dressed suit.

  
Door shut, his eyes went back to the child on the bed while he stepped forward to continue his parenting. Fingers delicately traces her brow, cheek and hair as he looked her over. His little Cherub, she was his and he was theirs. Her Mother rather unknowingly pledging herself to him, his two diamonds would forever be by his side. Glacial eyes cut to the wall dividing him from his new edition, he'd have to introduce himself soon but there was never any time. An Antichrist never had time. Yet he could think of a few fun ways to acquaint themselves, ways to soften her up to his way. His wife didn't even know what awaits her yet.

  
Climbing into bed, you abandoned your book in favor of clutching your glass. The cold drink soothing your heart and fears as you calmed. More than likely it was your overactive imagination, filling in the silence of your daughters one sided conversation. There was noone else into the apartment, much less her room.

  
Just an overprotective mother losing her mind, you added in your head. Huffing a sigh you placed your drink to the side and climbed underneath your covers. One soft click later and your bathed in darkness, one minute later and dreams begin.

~*~  
_Fingers glide up your thighs, the soft chill of warming metal making your spine shudder and back bow into the firm pillow and mattress below. They trail forward and back, teasing the flimsy line of your sleep shorts back and forth. Higher and higher they go as lips dance upon your knees and up your thighs to follow._

  
_Legs quake, eyes closed in pleasure as those sinfully full and soft petals glide over your skin, following the trail of dancing finger tips. It's almost shocking how good it feels, how right, how… loving it all feels. For whatever reason you can't find it in yourself to pull your head from the pillow confinement to gaze at the no doubt dream hunk your currently listing over._

  
_It's like he hears your thoughts though, abruptly those hands rip the offending cloth away and those lips find your center as they push your thighs open and up overhead. The heated gasps those actions illicit are nothing compared to the cry that leaves your lips once his lips find your home. Teeth brush against your pearl softly before a long wide tongue flicks and lathers at your opening up until your clit._  
_Your own hands abruptly dig into the hair of the mans hair, it curls teasingly around your fingers in supple waves, begging to be yanked. And so you do, your reward is a deep groan that vibrates from your core to your chest and makes your eyes roll beneath your sockets. His tenor is deep, the tone of him speaks of power and security._

  
_His efforts renew, tongue swathing this way and that, curling and sucking at you in the most delicious of ways. Your thighs shake, mouth open in moans of pleasure and his strong grip on your thighs don't let up, instead they push harder and grip firmer with each new sound. Your body is curled up, you can almost feel his knees digging into the skin above your hips, you have never had a man so intent on devouring you that he manhandled you in such a position._

  
_Biting your lip to fight the impending orgasm does nothing, not when he notices your shifting and squirming. It's too much at once, his mouth is heaven on your mound and tugging his hair does nothing but encourage him. Your pleas seem like music to his ears because all he does in response is shake his head into your open thighs like an animal refusing to let go of his favorite toy._

  
_A gasp gets caught in your throat, a choking sound issuing that makes your eyes squint open and all you see in the flash of glimmering jeweled fingers upon your legs. The dirty blonde of his hair beautiful in the low light of your dream and sticking to his head with perspiration. It seemed he had worked himself up, it brought a slow smirk to your lips that he answered with a quick suckle of your core once more._

  
_In the end your back bowed again, your head once again disappearing between the confines of your pillow once more as a whimper sounds. His deep chuckle echos around the room as abruptly as his hands let go of your thighs. And then your planted against his warmth, naked he is and so very hot. He's so warm between and beneath your thighs that they instantly wrap around his waist and pull him deeper._

  
_Whispers dance around the room, filling your ears with sinful delight and bashful longing. His hands glide again, following and handling your curves with feather touches and firm gropes. He sings confidence and vulnerability, his soft hitches of breath each time you let out a soft noise of pleasure gives you the best insight. You wished he was real._

  
_Hands trail down your sides, from shoulders to hips to thighs and buttocks. Two quick moves and suddenly delicious pain, he’s and big, girthy and leaves a pleasant burn as he works his way in. Your mouth opens soundlessly and still he grips tight,, pushing and pulling till fully seated and then he begins. Each roll of his hips in punctuated with a deep breath, his lips finding yours in slow kisses. You can't help but answer them, nipping his full bottom lip and digging your hands back in his hair to keep his mouth on yours._

  
_God, you wish he was real. He feels so good, so amazing._

_Otherworldly._

  
Please _, you beg in muted moans, back arching more as he gets rougher. One of his hands release a thigh to run over bared skin, down your shoulder to your hand. The action intimate and dare you say, loving. His long fingers part yours, clutching tight, your rings clink together, drawing attention.._

  
_Right to the gigantic black diamond on his ring finger, the moans in your throat grow louder, the ha d in his hair tugging harshly. The kiss is sloppy, but passionate like your trying to meld together. His hips grow harder, faster as he pounds into you but you need more. More or you'll die. Your hands clutch each other so tight you can feel his ring cur into you and vice versa. Your other leg falls, his free hand now playing with your pearl and suddenly you can't hold back._

  
_His voice is deep, sinful and every bit of sexy you can imagine. “_ **Cum for me. Beautiful, so beautiful. So tight, all mine. Cum.** _”_

  
_It builds higher and higher with every flick of his finger, every slam of his hips and then your gone. Brilliant white envelops your vision, your voice crying into the void, legs twitching, body shuddering. Warmth, hot and sudden slides into you, deep it goes and yet his hips barely falter as he works it into you as his cry shatters the dream_.

  
“ **Mine**.”

  
_You awake, alone in your bed. Hot and sticky with your blanket low on your hips, sleepily you glance around for what could have woken you from your father lovely dream but find nothing. Eyes flutter shut once more as you snuggle once more beneath your blanket, you barely register the full ache between your thighs or behind them. The shadow in the corner shudders only once, a hand in your hair and then gone_.


End file.
